THE  LIBRARY 

OF 

THE  UNIVERSITY 
OF  CALIFORNIA 

LOS  ANGELES 


POEMS 

JOSEPHINE 
D ASK  A  M 


POEMS 


BY 

JOSEPHINE     DASKAM 


NEW   YORK 
CHARLES   SCRIBNER'S   SONS 

MDCCCCIII 


COPYRIGHT,    1903,    BY    CHARLES    SCRIBNER's    SONS 
PUBLISHED     OCTOBER,    1903 


D.  B.  UPDIKE,  THE  MERRYMOUNT  PRESS,  BOSTON 


PS 


TO 

M.    A.   J., 

the  first  and  cordial  critic  of  many  of  these  verses, 
it  gives  me  great  pleasure  to  dedicate  this  collection 
of  them. 

J.   D.   B. 


CONTENTS 

PAGE 

MOTHERHOOD  1 

THE  SLEEPY  SONG  3 

THE  GOLDEN  DAYS  5 

THE  VIGIL  6 

THE  SEA  MAN  8 

THE  SONS  OF  SLEEP  12 
FOUR  SONGS: 

I.    THE    PEASANT    GIRL  14 

II.    AN    INTERLUDE  13 

in.   HEART'S  SEASONS  16 

IV.     OVER    THE    HILLS    AND    FAR    AWAY  17 

THE    SAILOlTs    SONG  18 

QUATRAIN  19 

THE    OLD    COUNTRY  20 

THE    LITTLE    BLIND    BEGGAR  22 

THE    STRANGER    CHILD  24 

SONGS    OF  ISEULT    DESERTED  26 

THE    OLD    CAFHVE  28 

SONG    TO    OPHELIA  31 

A    CHRISTMAS    HYMN    FOR    CHILDREN  32 

THE    GYPSY    MAID  34 
[  vii   ] 


CONTENTS 

PAGE 

THREE    SONGS: 

I.    THE    SAILOR  36 

II.    THE    HUNTER  37 

III.    THE    PRINCE  38 

THE    LITTLE    DEAD    CHILD  39 

AT    PARTING  42 

THE    NIXY  43 

A   JAPANESE    FAN  44 

TWO    SONNETS    FROM    THE    HEBREW 

I.  THE    PREPARATION  45 

II.  THE    INCARNATION  46 

ODE:    WRITTEN    FOR   THE    TWENTY-SECOND   OF 

FEBRUARY  47 

THE  DEATH  SONG  50 
SEVEN  CHILD  SONGS 

I.    DO   YOU    KNOW?  53 

II.  THE    SECRET    PLAYMATE  55 

III.  LONELINESS  56 

IV.  DREAMS  57 
V.    THE    SHADOW  58 

VI.     HEAVEN  60 

VII.    THE    PEAR    TREE  61 

[  viii  ] 


CONTENTS 

PAGE 

INSCRIPTIONS : 

FOB  A  CHILD'S  PLATE  62 

FOR  HIS  CUP  62 

FOB  HIS  CHAIB  62 

FOB  HIS  BED  63 

THE   WANDERERS  64 


MOTHERHOOD 

1  HE  night  throbs  on :  but  let  me  pray,  dear  Lord ! 
Crush  off  his  name  a  moment  from  my  mouth. 
To  thee  my  eyes  would  turn,  but  they  go  back, 
Back  to  my  arm  beside  me  where  he  lay — 
So  little,  Lord,  so  little  and  so  warm! 

I  cannot  think  that  thou  hadst  need  of  him ! 
He  is  so  little,  Lord,  he  cannot  sing, 
He  cannot  praise  thee;  all  his  lips  had  learned 
Was  to  hold  fast  my  kisses  in  the  night. 

Give  him  to  me — he  is  not  happy  there! 
He  had  not  felt  his  life :  his  lovely  eyes 
Just  knew  me  for  his  mother,  and  he  died. 

Hast  thou  an  angel  there  to  mother  him? 

I  say  he  loves  me  best — if  he  forgets, 

If  thou  allow  it  that  my  child  forgets 

And  runs  not  out  to  meet  me  when  I  come — 

What  are  my  curses  to  thee?  Thou  hast  heard 
The  curse  of  Abel's  mother,  and  since  then 
We  have  not  ceased  to  threaten  at  thy  throne, 
To  threat  and  pray  thee  that  thou  hold  them  still 
In  memory  of  us. 

[  1  1 


MOTHERHOOD 

See  thou  tend  him  well, 
Thou  God  of  all  the  mothers!  If  he  lack 
One  of  his  kisses  —  Ah,  my  heart,  my  heart, 
Do  angels  kiss  in  heaven?  Give  him  back! 

Forgive  me,  Lord,  but  I  am  sick  with  grief, 
And  tired  of  tears  and  cold  to  comforting. 
Thou  art  wise  I  know,  and  tender,  aye,  and  good. 
Thou  hast  my  child  and  he  is  safe  in  thee, 
And  I  believe — 

Ah,  God,  my  child  shall  go 
Orphaned  among  the  angels!  All  alone, 
So  little  and  alone!  He  knows  not  thee, 
He  only  knows  his  mother — give  him  back! 


[2] 


THE  SLEEPY  SONG 

As  soon  as  the  fire  burns  red  and  low, 
And  the  house  up-stairs  is  still, 
She  sings  me  a  queer  little  sleepy  song, 
Of  sheep  that  go  over  the  hill. 

The  good  little  sheep  run  quick  and  soft, 
Their  colors  are  gray  and  white: 
They  follow  their  leader  nose  to  tail, 
For  they  must  be  home  by  night. 

And  one  slips  over  and  one  comes  next, 
And  one  runs  after  behind, 
The  gray  one's  nose  at  the  white  one's  tail, 
The  top  of  the  hill  they  find. 

And  when  they  get  to  the  top  of  the  hill 
They  quietly  slip  away, 
But  one  runs  over  and  one  comes  next — 
Their  colors  are  white  and  gray. 

And  over  they  go,  and  over  they  go, 
And  over  the  top  of  the  hill, 
The  good  little  sheep  run  quick  and  soft, 
And  the  house  up-stairs  is  still. 


[3  ] 


THE      SLEEPY      SONG 

And  one  slips  over  and  one  comes  next, 
The  good  little,  gray  little  sheep! 
I  watch  how  the  fire  burns  red  and  low, 
And  she  says  that  I  fall  asleep. 


[4] 


THE  GOLDEN  DAYS 

1  WONDER  where  the  Fairy-book  can  be, 

The  book  from  which  she  read  to  you  and  me, 

While  the  warm  sunlight  shifted  down  the  tree? 

And  the  brown  eyes  turned  downward  to  the  leaf, 

Tear-spotted  by  two  tiny  people's  grief, 

When  Death  bound  one  more  princess  in  his  sheaf. 

I  wonder  where  the  Rocking-horse  has  run 
That  carried  us  before  the  day  was  done, 
To  all  the  lands  that  lie  beneath  the  sun? 

And  the  dear  lips  of  her  we  loved  so  well 
Kissed  us  more  sweetly  than  our  tongue  could  tell, 
When  the  too  daring  riders  swayed  and  fell. 

I  wonder  where  the  crimson  peaches  grow 
We  caught  together  when  she  threw  them,  so, 
And  ran  with  her  to  hide  them,  laughing  low? 

And  her  light  feet  were  swifter  yet  than  ours, 
And  her  soft  cheeks  were  like  two  rosy  Jlowers — 
Ah,  Time  and  Death,  ye  two  malignant  powers ! 


THE  VIGIL 

.NAY,  Lord,  I  pray  thee  call  not  me  to  fight! 
I  have  crept  out  of  day  to  bless  the  night. 
Hush,  Son,  and  gather  courage  for  the  light! 

But  see,  I  weary  ere  I  have  begun! 

Give  thou  the  battle  to  some  worthier  one! 

When  have  1  offered  thee  to  choose,  my  Son  ? 

Look  how  my  eyes  with  loneliness  are  wet! 
But  give  me  once  warm  arms  and  lips  close  met. 
Into  the  desert,  Son,  thy  way  is  set! 

Nay,  then,  thou  leanest  on  a  broken  reed! 
Music  and  mirth  and  fire  and  friends  I  need. 
They  walk  alone  whom  I  have  called  to  lead! 

How  shall  I  lead  who  only  know  to  stray? 
Am  I  to  shepherd  them,  who  lose  the  way? 
Yet  I  require  them  of  thee  in  that  day ! 

What  if  I  will  not?  Let  me  be  as  these 

That  laugh  and  breed  and  die  and  have  good  ease ! 

Nay,  Son,  the  eye  once  bared  forever  sees! 


[6] 


THE     VIGIL 

This  only,  Lord:  what  shall  my  gladness  be 
Who  fight  disheartened  in  life's  phantom  sea? 
To  make  the  bridge  whereon  they  cross  to  me! 

What  am  I,  Lord,  that  I  should  strive  with  fate? 

Bring  on  the  dawn,  before  it  be  too  late! 

My  Son,  the  dawn  shall  come,  and  thou  wilt  wait! 


Yea,  Lord,  and  I  lie  broken  in  thy  hand. 

Heat  me  white  hot,  to  forge  as  thou  hast  planned. 

Fear  not,  my  Son,  but  I  shall  understand! 

Melt  out  my  yielded  soul  in  one  red  stream, 
Perchance  through  thy  white  furnace  hope  may 

gleam —  , 
My  Son,  a  rest  thou  hast  not  dared  to  dream! 


[7] 


THE  SEA  MAN 

IT  was  the  burgher's  daughter, 
As  fair  as  maid  could  be, 

That  loved  too  well  the  stranger, 
A  man  from  off  the  sea. 

"My  mother  she  was  a  sea  maid; 

My  father  he  loved  no  shore. 
Thou  must  bury  me  under  billows, 

Or  thou  ne'er  shall  see  me  more!" 

She's  kissed  him  lip  and  forehead; 

She  's  given  him  her  vow: 
"Five-fathom  sea  shall  cover  thee, 

But  only  love  me  now!" 


For  seven  years  her  sleep  is  sweet 
Against  the  sea  man's  heart. 

"But  now  hath  come  my  time  to  die, 
And  now  we  twain  must  part. 

"Farewell,  my  little  daughter! 

Farewell,  my  bonny  son ! 
Last  night  the  waves  did  call  my  name; 

My  life  on  land  is  done." 

[  8  ] 


THE      SEA      MAN 

She  holds  him  close  and  closer; 

The  bitter  tears  fall  down. 
"Remember  now  thy  maiden  vow, 

Or  woe  betide  this  town! 

"Remember  the  oath  ye  gave  me, 

Nor  bury  me  but  in  sea, 
For  the  ocean  will  come  to  seek  its  own 

If  ye  cheat  my  waves  of  me!  " 

Now  come  her  haughty  sisters; 

Now  comes  her  father  stern. 
"This  deed  brings  little  honor 

For  all  the  world  to  learn. 

"Our  fathers  lie  in  holy  ground; 

Their  tombs  are  carven  well; 
A  heathen  stranger  cast  a-sea 

Were  too  much  shame  to  tell!" 

They  've  buried  him  in  the  minster  high 

That  stands  beside  her  door, 
But  the  winds  o'  the  air  have  drowned  the 
prayer, 

And  the  sea  foams  up  the  shore. 


THE      SEA      MAN 

"Mother,  I  hear  the  billows  roll, 

I  hear  them  hiss  and  moan!" 
"Nay,  little  son,  their  fury's  done, 

'T  is  but  the  wind  alone." 

"Mother,  I  smell  the  salt  sea  wind, 

I  taste  the  salt  sea  spray!" 
"Nay,  daughter  mine,  some  dream  is  thine, 

I  '11  sing  thy  fear  away." 

"Mother,  we  cannot  hear  thy  voice! 

The  sea  rolls  loud  and  high! 
It  rushes  up  the  minster  street 

And  flings  the  church  door  by!" 

The  waves  pour  out  the  windows  wide, 
They  've  washed  the  altar  bare, 

They  've  torn  the  flowers  from  the  stranger's 

tomb, 
And  heaped  wet  sea-weed  there! 


It  was  the  burgher's  daughter 
That  made  her  prayer  in  vain, 

For  all  that  drowned  city 
Was  never  seen  again. 


[  10] 


THE     SEA     MAN 

For  all  its  goodly  gardens, 
For  all  its  towers  so  high, 

Five-fathom  sea  rolls  over  it 
And  shuts  it  from  the  sky. 

Then  bury  the  sea  man  deeply, 
Five  fathom  out  from  shore, 

Lest  the  ocean  come  in  tojlnd  him, 
And  ye  see  the  sun  no  more! 


[11  ] 


THE  SONS  OF  SLEEP 

Wow  the  wayfaring,  now  the  restless  earth, 
Descrying  on  her  dim  and  trackless  verge 
The  dear,  awaited  dawning  of  the  night, 
Moves  slowly  in  a  languor  of  desire, 
And  drifts  into  the  haven  of  her  sleep. 

Like  dropping  of  the  sweet  and  gradual  rain, 
Full  flooding  all  the  parched  doors  of  growth, 
The  multitudinous  lips  of  all  the  flowers, 
The  whispering  insistence  of  dry  leaves, 
All  cool  and  rill-like  flowing,  falls  our  sleep. 

As  the  long  thunderous  surge  of  ocean  waves 
That  lull  eternally  the  listening  shore, 
Slow  sweeping  in  from  vast  and  caverned  depths, 
Comes  the  white  tide  that  washes  loose  our  souls, 
To  drown  them  tenderly  in  depths  of  sleep. 

Soft  stealing  like  the  swathed  and  plumed  dusk, 
Enwrapped  in  shadows,  shod  with  silences, 
Unceasing,  unresisted,  unobserved, 
Embosoming  the  lapsed  and  languid  earth, 
Slips  o'er  the  sons  of  men  close-feathered  sleep. 

By  day  they  walk  diverse  and  isolate, 
Sunken  in  self  they  skulk  their  separate  ways, 

[  12  ] 


THE      SONS      OF      SLEEP 

Poor  fugitives  of  fate,  awhirl  in  time, 
Groping  for  fellow-hands  they  dare  not  grasp, 
Grudging  the  thriftless  hours  they  yield  to  sleep. 

But  now,  relaxed  and  drifting  with  that  stream 
Whereon  they  taste  soft  moments  of  the  voyage 
Whose  unknown  port  no  seaman  of  us  all 
Evaded  ever,  these  swift,  swarming  souls 
As  one  glad  band  of  brothers  sink  in  sleep. 

Surely  the  great  and  tireless  Heart  of  all, 
Grieved  by  day  for  their  perversity, 
Joys  in  them  as  they  lie,  breast  soft  on  breast, 
Hand  locked  in  hand,  a  fathom  deep  in  dreams, 
And  brims  anew  the  cooling  wells  of  sleep ! 


FOUR  SONGS 

I.    THE    PEASANT    GIRL 

JLJEYOND  the  sea  he  goes,  beyond  the  sea. 
Does  he  look  back  to  Arcady  and  me? 

And  yet,  how  could  it  be? 
How  should  he  mate  with  such  a  maid  as  I? 

Ah,  let  him  go — good-by! 

Beyond  my  sight  he  goes,  beyond  my  sight. 

Does  he  look  back  and  say,  " My  sweet,  good-night"? 

And  yet,  is  love  so  light? 
How  should  he  know  the  pain  I  could  not  tell? 

Ah,  let  him  go — farewell! 

Beyond  my  prayer  he  goes,  beyond  my  prayer. 
Does  he  look  back  from  out  the  great  world  there? 

And  yet,  how  could  I  dare? 
How  should  he  know  if  love  be  wrong  or  right? 

Ah,  let  him  go — good-night! 


[14] 


II.    AN    INTERLUDE 

I  WAS  within  her  heart  that  one  short  year 
(But  that  is  long  ago  and  far  away!). 

Her  soul's  sweet  spring, 

The  while  she  waited  for  that  greater  thing, 
Should  blow  to  blossom  all  the  buds  of  May. 

I  was  within  her  heart  that  one  short  year 
(But  that  is  hidden,  lost,  and  gone  away!). 

She  was  not  mine, 

But  ere  the  glorious  harvest  moon  could  shine 
There  beamed  on  me  the  crescent  moon  of  May. 

I  was  within  her  heart  that  one  short  year 
(But  that  has  faded  faint  and  soft  away!). 

Though  the  year's  night 

Draws  on,  and  all  about  the  snow  falls  white, 
Across  my  heart  there  blows  a  breath  of  May. 


III.    HEARTS    SEASONS 

W  HEN  Love  went  holidaying 

Among  the  autumn  leaves, 
They  bloomed  in  sweet  betraying, 
The  purple  clouds,  soft  straying, 
Held  daylight  back,  delaying 

To  gild  the  glowing  sheaves — 
When  Love  went  holidaying 
Among  the  autumn  leaves. 

When  Grief  came  on  a-sighing 
Behind  the  flowers  of  spring, 
They  withered  to  their  dying, 
The  homing  birds,  slow  flying, 
Sang  wintry  songs,  denying 

The  joy  that  June  should  bring- 
When  Grief  came  on  a-sighing 
Behind  the  flowers  of  spring. 


[16] 


IV.    OVER    THE    HILLS    AND    FAR    AWAY 

OVER  the  hills,"  he  said,  "and  far  away!" 
Ah  me!  to  go,  to  leave  it  all  and  go! 
To  toss  my  life  as  east  wind  tosses  spray, 
To  clean  forget  that  this  land  ever  lay 
Within  my  sight,  that  wearied  of  it  so ! 

"Over  the  hills,"  he  said,  "and  far  away!" 

Could  he  have  felt  my  heart  leap  up  and  sing! 
I  knew  the  primrose  path  my  feet  would  stray, 
I  guessed  the  lovely  glow  of  the  new  day 

That  lies  beyond  the  mountain's  purple  wing. 

"Over  the  hills,"  he  said,  "and  far  away!" 

He  took  my  heart  and  wandered  on  alone; 
Doubtless  some  other  strolls  with  him  to-day, 
A  lightsome  comrade  on  his  happy  way, 

That  way  across  the  hills  I  have  not  known! 


[17  ] 


THE  SAILOR'S  SONG 

\J  THE  wind 's  to  the  West  and  the  sails  are  filling  free ! 
Take  your  head  from  my  breast :  you  must  say  good-by 

to  me. 
You  'd  my  heart  in  both  your  hands,  but  you  did  not 

hold  it  fast, 
And  the  mill  cannot  grind  with  the  water  that  is  past. 

0  it 's  I  must  away,  and  it 's  you  must  bide  at  home! 

1  am  sped  like  the  spray,  I  am  fickle  as  the  foam: 

It  was  sweet,  my  dear,  't  was  sweet,  but 't  was  all  too 

sweet  to  last, 
For  the  mill  cannot  grind  with  the  water  that  is  past. 

We  have  clasped,  we  have  kissed,  but  you  would  not 

give  me  more: 
I  must  win  what  we  missed  on  some  other,  farther 

shore. 
You  can  never  hold  the  gray  gull  that  swings  about 

the  mast, 
And  the  mill  cannot  grind  with  the  water  that  is  past. 

You  will  mourn,  you  will  mate,  but  'twill  never  be 

with  me: 

I  am  off  to  my  fate,  and  it  lies  across  the  sea. 
For  it 's  God  alone  that  knows  where  my  anchor  will 

be  cast, 

And  the  mill  cannot  grind  with  the  water  that  is  past. 
[  18] 


QUATRAIN 

IN  a  wide  chamber  from  the  rest  apart, 

I  spread  the  purple  dais  of  my  heart : 

An  unfilled  throne,  with  steps  by  men  untrod, 

Too  high  it  was  for  them — too  low  for  God. 


[19] 


THE  OLD  COUNTRY 

WHERE'S  the  land  o  Dreamland? 

How  should  I  know? 
On  the  moon's  farther  side, 
Where  the  drift  clouds  ride, 

And  the  stars  hang  low. 

What 's  the  look  o'  Dreamland  ? 

How  should  I  see? 
All  the  air 's  silver-gray, 
Glinted  with  star  spray, 

Here  and  there  a  tree. 

What 's  the  sound  o'  Dreamland? 

How  should  I  hear? 
Bell  tones  from  far  below, 
Night's  haunting  cockcrow, 

Olden  songs  and  dear. 

What 's  the  speech  o'  Dreamland  ? 

How  should  I  say? 
Great  eyes  that  fill  the  heart, 
Soft  hands  that  clasp  and  part, 

Calls  from  far  away. 


[20] 


THE     OLD      COUNTRY 

Where  's  the  gate  o  Dreamland? 

How  should  I  tell? 
Sudden  you  stand  before, 
Slip  through  the  quiet  door — 

Ah,  but  all's  well! 


[21  ] 


THE  LITTLE  BLIND   BEGGAR 

AT  the  gate  of  the  world  where  the  travel  flows, 

And  the  folk  stream  by  full-tide, 
A  little  blind  Beggar  sits  in  the  sun 

And  shoots  afar  and  awide. 

He  fits  the  arrow  and  twangs  the  bow 

And  low  in  his  throat  laughs  he, 
For  well  he  knows  he  will  hit  his  mark 

Though  never  a  face  he  see. 

And  never  his  stock  of  arrows  fails, 
For  the  pain  of  the  wound  is  sweet, 

And  the  stricken  folk  bring  the  arrows  back 
To  pile  at  the  Beggar's  feet. 

So  he  fits  the  arrows  and  twangs  the  bow, 

And  laughs  till  his  fingers  shake, 
For  well  he  knows  he  can  never  miss, 

But  somewhere  a  heart  must  ache. 

Now  they  who  are  struck,  they  keep  still  tongue, 

But  they  carry  the  arrows  back, 
And  they  who  are  spared  they  sound  abroad 

The  songs  of  the  pain  they  lack. 


THE      LITTLE      BLIND      BEGGAR 

But  still  or  singing,  and  grave  or  gay, 
Through  the  gate  of  the  world  they  go, 

And  the  little  blind  Beggar  sits  in  the  sun 
And  laughs  as  he  lays  them  low. 


[23] 


THE  STRANGER  CHILD 

Wow  the  night  is  dark, 
Now  the  house  is  still; 

Comes  a  little  stranger  child 
Toiling  up  the  hill. 

Listens  at  the  door, 
Peers  within  the  pane, 

Reaches  for  the  broken  latch 
Rusted  with  the  rain. 

Murmurs  in  the  dark, 
Sobs  beneath  his  breath, 

Whispers  to  the  empty  rooms, 
Quiet,  now,  for  death. 

Wanders  through  the  lane 
Where  the  rosebush  grew, 

Tries  to  reach  the  cobwebbed  sill 
Drenched  and  dark  with  dew. 

Calls — and  calls  in  vain! 

For  the  man,  alone, 
Dies  before  a  dying  fire, 

Hears  no  human  tone 


THE      STRANGER     CHILD 

Only  his  soul's  voice 

Calls  the  dull  roll  through; 

Good  so  often  long  to  wait, 
111  so  quick  to  do. 

Only  his  soul's  eyes, 

Shamed  and  tired  of  all, 

Watch  the  red  life  ebb  and  flow, 
Watch  the  last  sands  fall. 

And  the  little  child, 

Clinging  to  the  sill, 
Weeps  and  stretches  tiny  hands, 

Weak  for  good  or  ill. 

Slow  the  dying  coal 

Drops  from  out  the  fire; 

Slowly  sinks  the  house  of  clay, 
Empty  of  desire. 

Through  the  creaking  blind 

Slips  the  spirit  now, 
Shudders  at  the  stranger  child, 

"Thou?  my  lost  youth,  thou?" 


[  25  ] 


SONGS  OF  ISEULT  DESERTED 

i 

1  DO  not  pray  for  thee,  most  dear  of  all, 
That  ever  in  soft  ways  thy  feet  may  fall, 
For  well  I  know  that  wheresoe'er  thou  art 
Thy  feet  must  tread  forever  on  my  heart! 

I  pray  thee  only  to  walk  gently,  sweet, 
Nor  press  too  sharply  with  too  cruel  feet: 
Remember  thou  how  soft  the  way  must  be, 
How  soft — and  ah,  how  sad — and  pity  me! 


Should  we  have  loved  if  we  had  known 
That  love  would  bring  one  day  such  pain? 

I  cannot  tell  —  I  only  kiss 

The  pillow  where  your  head  has  lain. 

Should  we  have  loved  if  we  had  known 
That  love  would  go  to  come  no  more? 

I  cannot  tell — I  only  stand 

And  sob  before  a  fast-closed  door. 


[  26  ] 


SONGS     OF     ISEULT     DESERTED 


Since  you  are  gone,  all  dull  my  life  has  grown, 

Idle  among  my  empty  days  I  stand: 
They  pass  and  pass,  and  leave  me  here  alone  — 

Ah,  sweet,  your  hand  that  burned  upon  my  hand! 

Since  you  are  gone,  gone  are  the  joys  I  knew, 
Slowly  from  out  the  sky  the  long  night  slips: 

And  my  arms  ache  with  emptiness  of  you  — 
Ah,  sweet,  your  lips  that  trembled  on  my  lips! 

Since  you  are  gone,  the  world  is  grown  too  wide, 
With  cruel  miles  that  hold  us  two  apart: 

I  sit  and  watch  the  white  road  weary-eyed — 

Ah,  sweet,  your  heart  that  beat  against  my  heart! 


THE  OLD  CAPTIVE 

1  o  hear  once  more  the  thunder  of  the  surf, 
To  breathe  once  more  the  salt  and  stinging  wind, 
To  set  my  cheek  once  more  against  the  wave, 
To  look  once  more  across  the  billowy  Sea! 

Chained  in  the  pen  of  silent  heavy  hills, 
I  dream  hot  nights  of  that  sweet  long  ago, 
When  I  leaped  down  the  beach  in  the  dim  dawn, 
And  plunged  to  meet  the  sun — and  knew  the  Sea! 

And  they  drove  in  the  boats  with  a  shout  and  a  song, 
And  they  spread  wide  the  nets  in  the  face  o  the  nind, 
And  the  ship  strained  and  dipped  like  a  swooping  bird, 
And  we  rushed  onward,  mad  for  the  open  Sea! 

Never  to  feed  my  eyes  on  strange  dim  coasts, 
Never  to  touch  a  branch  washed  in  by  the  tide, 
Never  to  gaze  on  dark  and  silent  men 
From  some  far  isle  in  the  mysterious  Sea! 

Never  to  see  the  white  sails  gleam  and  fade, 
Nor  watch  black  masts  against  the  setting  sun, 
Never  to  glide  within  some  wondrous  port, 
Nor  breathe  spice  winds  blown  soft  across  the  Sea! 


[  28  ] 


THE      OLD      CAPTIVE 

Never  to  feel  the  great  sail  fill  and  stretch, 
Nor  plough  white  fiery  trails  beneath  the  stars, 
Nor  float  below  some  tow'ring  rosy  berg, 
Nor  ride  the  sheer  gulfs  of  the  stormy  Sea! 

And  they  rushed  down  to  the  beach  to  drag  us  in, 
And  they  pulled  hard  at  the  rough  and  glistening  rope, 
And  the  glad  keel  rubbed  harsh  on  the  shelly  sand, 
And  their  arms  strained  us,homefromtheterribleSea! 

Though  in  my  life  I  lost  thee,  tired  and  dead, 
Me  they  shall  bring  to  thee,  O  long  desired! 
Me  they  shall  lay  at  sunset  on  the  sand, 
Where  the  strong  tide  swings  outward  to  the  Sea. 

Me  like  a  cradled  child  the  waves  shall  rock, 
Rock  'neath  the  moon,  and  sink  to  those  dim  caves, 
Those  wide  green  glooms,  those  clear  and  palliddepths, 
The  silence  and  the  strange  flowers  of  the  Sea. 

And  they  shall  bear  me  down  with  a  glorious  song, 
And  they  shall  shout  to  the  crash  and  booin  of  the  surf, 
And  they  shall  thrill  to  the  whip  and  sting  of  the  spray, 
While  the  great  waves  ride  triumphing  out  to  Sea  ! 

Where  the  pale  light  strains  down  through  undreamed 

deeps 
To  glimmer  o'er  the  vast  unpeopled  plains, 

[  29  ] 


THE      OLD      CAPTIVE 

The  ancient  treasure  piles  of  dead  kings'  fleets, 
The  mighty  bones  long  bleached  beneath  the  Sea, 

There  where  cool  corals  and  still  seaweeds  twine, 
There  on  the  solemn  level  ocean  floor, 
Till  God's  great  arm  shall  terribly  plough  the  deep, 
I  shall  lie  long  and  rest  beneath  the  Sea. 


[  30  ] 


SONG  TO  OPHELIA 

UNTO  thy  grass-hidden  charms 
Nature  worketh  no  alarms; 
Changeth  all  thy  breath  to  dew, 
And  thine  eyes  to  violets  blue, 
Weaveth  all  thy  waving  hair 
Into  beams  to  light  the  air! 
Thus  the  song — and  yet  he  saith 
"Ah!  how  sad  a  thing  is  Death!  " 

Over  thy  earth-covered  breast 
Springtime  snow  doth  lightly  rest; 
Never  hath  been  spun  a  sheet 
For  thy  purity  more  meet; 
Lovelier  the  earth  shall  be 
Now  that  it  doth  prison  thee! 
Thus  the  song — and  yet  he  saith 
"Ah!  how  sad  a  thing  is  Death!  " 


[  31  ] 


A  CHRISTMAS  HYMN  FOR  CHILDREN 

OUR  bells  ring  out  to  all  the  earth, 

In  excelsis  gloria  ! 

But  none  for  Thee  made  chimes  of  mirth 
On  that  great  morning  of  Thy  birth. 

Our  coats  they  lack  not  silk  nor  fur, 

In  excelsis  gloria  ! 

Not  such  Thy  Blessed  Mother's  were; 
Full  simple  garments  covered  Her. 

Our  churches  rise  up  goodly  high, 

In  excelsis  gloria  ! 
Low  in  a  stall  Thyself  did  lie, 
With  horned  oxen  standing  by. 

Incense  we  breathe  and  scent  of  wine, 

In  excelsis  gloria  ! 

Around  Thee  rose  the  breath  of  kine, 
Thy  only  drink  Her  breast  divine. 

We  take  us  to  a  happy  tree, 

In  excelsis  gloria  ! 

The  seed  was  sown  that  day  for  Thee 
That  blossomed  but  at  Calvary. 


[  32  ] 


A     CHRISTMAS      HYMN 

Teach  us  to  feed  Thy  poor  with  meat, 

In  excelsis  gloria  ! 

Who  turnest  not  when  we  entreat, 
Who  givest  us  Thy  Bread  to  eat. 

Amen. 


[33] 


THE  GYPSY  MAID 

J^HE  met  them  on  the  forest  edge, 
A  maid  all  brown  and  slim, 

She  beckoned  them  to  leave  the  path 
That  girt  the  forest  rim. 

At  first  they  shake  their  heads  at  her, 

At  last  they  follow  meek, 
She  smiles  at  them  with  crimson  lips, 

And  sweet  her  bright  eyes  speak. 

They  go  as  in  a  faery  dream, 
The  forest  shuts  them  round, 

Save  for  the  leaves  that  whisper  low 
They  hear  no  earthly  sound. 

The  quiet  miles  have  grown  to  leagues, 
The  trees  are  strange  and  tall, 

They  listen  for  the  gypsy's  steps 
And  follow  where  they  fall. 

She  sings  a  song  of  Wander-land, 

For  very  joy  they  weep: 
Adown  the  hills  the  dying  day 

Soft  like  a  cloud  doth  creep. 


[  34,] 


THE      GYPSY     MAID 

The  forest  folk  have  gone  to  rest, 
The  trees  are  dark  and  high: 

The  gypsy's  song  it  crooneth  soft 
Their  mother's  lullaby. 

A  misty  moon  now  rides  the  clouds, 
They  sink  in  happy  sleep: 

The  gypsy  laughing  low  at  them 
Slips  in  the  forest  deep. 

They  wake  into  a  fearsome  dawn, 

Lost  in  a  gloomy  fen: 
They  follow  no  more  gypsy  maids 

In  all  their  life  again. 


[35  ] 


THREE  SONGS 

I.    THE    SAILOR 

I  ou  hold  me  for  a  day,  my  dear, 

I  lose  you  for  a  life, 
And  that 's  the  sailor's  way,  my  dear, 

A  love,  but  not  a  wife. 
'T  is  never  I  will  blame  you, 

'T  is  not  my  eyes  are  wet, 
But  't  is  I  that  must  remember — 

'T  is  you  that  will  forget. 

You  kiss  me  for  a  night,  my  dear, 

I  kiss  you  for  the  years, 
And  that 's  the  sailor's  right,  my  dear, 

And  life 's  too  short  for  tears. 
'T  is  never  I  will  stay  you 

When  once  the  moon  has  set, 
But  't  is  I  that  must  remember — 

'T  is  you  that  will  forget. 


[  36  ] 


II.    THE    HUNTER 

ONE  came  chasing  the  fallow  deer 
When  all  the  wood  was  green, 

But  through  my  heart  an  arrow  went 
That  ne'er  by  him  was  seen — 

Ah  me! 
That  ne'er  by  him  was  seen. 

One  came  hunting  the  eagle-king 
When  all  the  wood  was  brown, 

But  over  me  a  lure  was  cast 

That  dragged  my  proud  heart  down- 

Ah  me! 
That  dragged  my  proud  heart  down. 

One  came  tracking  the  mighty  boar 
When  all  the  wood  was  white, 

But  from  my  wound  the  red  drops  fell 
That  guided  him  that  night — 

Ah  me! 
That  guided  him  that  night. 


[37] 


III.    THE    PRINCE 

JVlY  heart  it  was  a  cup  of  gold 
That  at  his  lip  did  long  to  lie, 
But  he  hath  drunk  the  red  wine  down, 
And  tossed  the  goblet  by. 

My  heart  it  was  a  floating  bird 

That  through  the  world  did  wander  free, 

But  he  hath  locked  it  in  a  cage, 

And  lost  the  silver  key. 

My  heart  it  was  a  white,  white  rose 
That  bloomed  upon  a  broken  bough, 
He  did  but  wear  it  for  an  hour, 
And  it  is  withered  now. 


[38] 


THE  LITTLE  DEAD  CHILD 

W  HEN  all  but  her  were  sleeping  fast, 

And  the  night  was  nearly  fled, 
The  little  dead  child  came  up  the  stair 

And  stood  by  his  mother's  bed. 

"Ah,  God!"  she  cried,  "the  nights  are  three, 

And  yet  I  have  not  slept!" 
The  little  dead  child  he  sat  him  down, 

And  sank  his  head,  and  wept. 


"And  is  it  thou,  my  little  dead  child, 
Come  in  from  out  the  storm? 

Ah,  lie  thou  back  against  my  heart, 
And  I  will  keep  thee  warm!" 

That  is  long  ago,  mother, 

Long  and  long  ago! 
Shall  I  grow  warm  who  lay  three  nights 

Beneath  the  winter  snow? 


"Hast  thou  not  heard  the  old  nurse  weep? 

She  sings  to  us  no  more; 
And  thy  brothers  leave  the  broken  toys 

And  whisper  in  the  door." 

[  39  ] 


THE     LITTLE     DEAD     CHILD 

That  is  far  away,  mother, 

Far  and  far  away  ! 
Above  my  head  the  stone  is  white, 

My  hands  forget  to  play. 


"What  wilt  thou  then,  my  little  dead  child, 
Since  here  thou  may'st  not  lie? 

Ah,  me!  that  snow  should  be  thy  sheet, 
And  winds  thy  lullaby!" 

Down  within  my  grave,  mother, 

1  heard,  I  know  not  how, 
"  Go  up  to  God,  thou  little  child, 

Go  up  and  meet  him  now!  " 

That  is  Jar  to  fare,  mother, 

Far  and  Jar  to  fare! 
I  come  for  thee  to  carry  me 

The  way  from  here  to  there. 

"O  hold  thy  peace,  my  little  dead  child, 

My  heart  will  break  in  me! 
Thy  way  to  God  thou  must  go  alone, 

I  may  not  carry  thee!" 


[40] 


THE     LITTLE     DEAD     CHILD 

The  cock  crew  out  the  early  dawn 
Ere  she  could  stay  her  moan ; 

She  heard  the  cry  of  a  little  child, 
Upon  his  way  alone. 


[41  ] 


AT  PARTING 

WH,  all  too  well  beloved,  at  last  I  know 
That  for  us  two  the  parting  of  the  ways 
Has  come,  and  brought  the  ending  of  sweet  days. 

Bid  me  good-bye,  and  loose  my  hand,  and  go. 

To-day's  fair  peak  we  ran  to  climb,  and  low 
Before  us,  glowing  in  our  last  sun's  rays, 
The  path  slopes  down,  nor  undivided  stays; 

The  path  slopes  down,  but  separate  and  slow. 

Henceforward  you  and  I  alone  must  fare. 
Nay,  look  not  all  so  sad!  Was  ever  done 
A  deed  to  merit  all  that  we  have  won 
Of  joy?  I  tell  you,  there  are  those  whose  prayer 
Is  nightly  on  their  knees  that  they  might  bear 
Our  shadow,  could  they  but  have  known  our  sun! 


[42] 


THE  NIXY 

1  HEY  brought  her  honey  and  milk, 

They  brought  her  curds  and  wine, 
"But  oh!"  she  cried,  "for  the  river  side, 

And  the  rushes  that  were  mine!" 

They  robed  her  body  with  silk, 

They  filled  her  lap  with  gold, 
"But  oh!"  she  prayed,  "for  the  mossy  shade, 

And  the  green  depths,  pure  and  cold!" 

They  kissed  her  ankles  for  love, 

They  worshiped  at  her  eyes, 
"But  oh!"  she  moaned,  "for  the  flood,  deep-toned, 

And  the  sweeping  spray  that  flies!" 

They  draped  her  chamber  with  black, 

They  wept  there  at  her  bier, 
But  her  glad  soul  fled  when  her  heart  was  dead, 

And  flowed  with  the  river  clear. 


[43] 


A  JAPANESE   FAN 

Is  it  so  warm  in  old  Japan? 

Do  flowers  flaunt  out  such  riot  glare? 
Hangs  that  soft,  golden  mist  so  low? 

Ah  me,  ah  me,  to  journey  there! 

Inked  out  against  the  yellow  glow 
One  sharp  peak  rises,  blackly  bare; 

A  stately  swan  steers  up  the  sky — 
Ah  me,  ah  me,  to  journey  there! 

And  see  her  as  she  furls  her  fan! 

Was  ever  lady  half  so  fair? 
She  beckons  to  me  with  her  eyes — 

Ah  me,  ah  me,  to  journey  there! 

Were  ever  feet  so  dainty  small? 

Was  ever  coiled  such  shining  hair? 
Her  hands  are  like  curled  lily-buds — 

Ah  me,  ah  me,  to  journey  there! 

Fan-pictured,  dear  Japan,  thy  calm 
Fills  us  of  West  with  dull  despair! 

(The  palm-leaves  sift  the  sunlight  through) 
Ah  me,  ah  me,  to  journey  there! 


TWO  SONNETS  FROM  THE  HEBREW 

I.    THE    PREPARATION 

"And  he  said,  I  will  not  destroy  it  for  the  ten's  sake." 

IJOOK  back  and  see  this  brooding  tenderness! 
Ye  wait  till  Bethlehem?  Nay  then,  not  I! 
Under  the  law  doth  Israel  ever  sigh? 
Is  there  no  mercy  till  the  great  redress? 
See  now,  amid  the  nameless  wickedness 
Love  dreadeth  lest  one  soul  of  his  should  die, 
Spareth  and  faltereth  and  passeth  by, 
Soft'ning  the  law  to  ease  a  son's  distress. 

Shall  not  the  judge  of  all  the  earth  do  right? 

Aye,  child,  and  more!  thou  hast  not  learned  to  spell 

Love's  first  great  letter:  centuries  of  pain 

Still  leave  him  terrible  in  thy  scared  sight 

Who  quencheth  with  his  tears  the  fires  of  hell, 

And  yearneth  o'er  the  cities  of  the  Plain ! 


[45  ] 


II.    THE    INCARNATION 

"  Yea,  they  may  forget,  yet  will  I  not  forget  thee! 


thou  for  us:  with  God  we  will  not  speak!" 
Ye  will  have  prophet,  yea,  and  saviour  too, 
And  saint  and  creed  and  priest  to  worship  through, 
Whereat  Love  smiles  and  gives  them,  ye  being  weak. 
And  most  ye  clutch  at  her,  that  virgin  meek 
With  cradling  arms  :  ah,  child  of  Love,  but  who 
Curved  her  soft  breast,  and  taught  the  dove  to  coo, 
And  sent  the  shepherd  forth  the  lamb  to  seek? 

Surely  great  wings  are  wrapped  around  our  world! 
And  the  one  pulse  that  in  us  ebbs  and  flows 
Leaps  at  her  name,  for  she  has  understood: 
In  our  hearts'  lowest  leaves  her  love  is  curled, 
Unshrined,  she  yet  hath  comfort  for  all  woes, 
If  not  God's  mother,  still  God's  motherhood! 


[  46] 


ODE:  WRITTEN  FOR  THE  TWENTY-SECOND  OF 
FEBRUARY 

UPON  the  shore  of  God's  unfinished  years, 
Waiting  impatient  while  the  slow  mist  clears., 
The  younger  sister  of  the  nations  stands, 
And  shades  her  eyes  with  mighty,  eager  hands. 

So  great,  so  proud,  so  strong!  with  youthful  scorn 
She  leaves  behind  her  sisters  elder  born, 
And  stands  before  the  parting  of  the  ways, 
Unburdened  with  their  weight  of  yesterdays. 

Hard  eyes  and  restless  hers,  agleam  for  gain, 
And  peevish  children  struggle  in  her  train; 
Yet  her  broad  brows  have  bloody  laurels  pressed, 
And  she  hath  nourished  heroes  at  her  breast. 

Half  scornful  of  her  children  of  to-day, 

She  dreams  how  long  ago  and  far  away 

Her  firstborn  brought  across  the  new-found  seas 

Their  mighty  faith,  long  gone,  alas,  from  these! 

She  sees  them,  where  th'  untrodden  forest  waves, 
Building  new  homes  upon  their  thick-set  graves, 
Raising  new  altars  to  a  stern,  high  creed, 
Training  in  fear  of  God  their  stalwart  breed. 


[  47  ] 


ODE 

She  hears  them  fling  across  the  hostile  sea 
That  cry  that  cheered  her  on  to  victory; 
She  feels  again  the  thrill  that  shook  her  soul 
When  wondering  nations  watched  her  flag  unroll. 

She  sees — and  ah,  her  heart  grows  big  with  tears 
From  out  the  mists  of  those  long- vanished  years, — 
She  sees  her  best  beloved  come,  her  pride; 
There  stands  again  her  hero  at  her  side. 

Her  eyes  are  soft  with  love,  and  to  her  heart 
There  comes  anew  with  sweet,  resistless  smart 
Her  long-forgotten  motherhood,  she  turns, 
And  toward  her  children  as  of  old  she  yearns. 

"Oh,  grown  beyond  my  power  to  curb  or  stay, 
Turn  ye  a  moment  from  your  sordid  way, 
Lift  ye  your  restless,  weary  eyes  on  high, 
This  son  your  mother  bore  in  days  gone  by! 

"Ye  will  not  see  me  old  before  my  time! 
Ye  will  not  make  me  barren  in  my  prime! 
Help  me  to  bear  ye  men  again  like  these! 
Make  me  the  greatest  land  the  great  sun  sees!" 

Ashamed  and  dumb  her  summoned  children  stand, 
And  love  with  the  old  love  their  Mother-land. 
Deep  in  their  hearts  her  elder  son  is  set: 
Thinking  on  him,  they  cannot  quite  forget! 
[  48  ] 


ODE 


Before  his  gracious  calm  their  fevered  schemes 
Awhile  are  gone,  and  flushed  with  the  old  dreams, 
They  see  in  him  writ  large  the  old,  high  aim, 
They  point,  though  backward,  to  one  perfect  fame! 


[  49  ] 


THE  DEATH  SONG 

'The  island  of  Martinique  will  not,  in  all  probability,  be 
built  up  again." 

JIJ.EARKEN,  my  father  the  lowering  Sky ! 

Hearken,  my  brother  the  heaving  Sea! 

Who  but  thy  sister  calls  to  thee? 
I,  the  Mountain,  make  end  and  die. 

Bridled  was  I  and  bitted  sure? 

Bridged  with  homes  and  with  gardens  chained? 

God's  tame  beast  to  his  uses  trained? 
Ye  to  go  free,  and  I  endure? 

See,  my  father,  I  cloud  like  thee! 

See,  my  brother,  like  thee  I  swell! 

Ye  league  with  death,  but  I  rule  all  hell, 
And  the  Lord  of  heaven  shall  shrink  from  me. 

Once  I  groaned,  and  the  scared  wind  sighed, 
Twice  I  heaved,  and  the  sick  earth  turned, 
Thrice  I  spat  out  my  blood  that  burned, 

Roaring  with  torture,  aflame  with  pride. 

Down  below  me  they  swarmed  and  stirred, 

Ants  in  an  ant-hill,  row  on  row. 

"Haste!"  I  cried  to  them,  "haste  and  go!" 
Have  I  not  warned?  but  they  have  not  heard. 

C  50] 


THE     DEATH      SONG 

"Pains  of  the  deep  hold  me  in  thrall,, 
World-old  cancers  that  eat  my  heart, 
Blood  o'  the  earth — I  feel  it  start — 

Gone,  get  ye  gone,  or  it  floods  you  all!" 

Living  and  breeding,  still  they  smile, 
Ants  of  the  ant-hill,  pygmy  men, 
"Pelee  stirs?  she  will  rest  again; 

Live  and  love  me  and  dance  awhile!" 


Ha,  my  heart  it  is  rent  in  twain ! 
Up  and  out  in  a  fiery  path 
Sweeps  a  river  of  molten  wrath, 

Falls  a  torrent  of  scorching  rain! 

Ho,  my  brother,  you  boil  and  hiss! 

Ho,  my  father,  I  hide  your  sun! 

Up,  at  last,  little  ants,  and  run! 
Shrivel  and  blanch  at  Pelee's  kiss! 

Hark!  did  I  hear  from  below  my  hill 

Rise  and  echo  a  puny  din? 

Through  my  thunder  a  wailing  thin? 
When  I  listened,  the  ants  were  still. 


[  51  ] 


THE     DEATH      SONG 

One  throe  more,  and  the  sea  is  death, 
Yet  again,  and  the  land  is  bare: 
Brother,  your  glory  is  all  to  share — 

I  have  outmurdered  ye,  breath  for  breath! 

Lone  I  must  lie  in  my  stately  doom, 
Stark  and  still  on  my  island  bier: 
Ashen  silence  shall  wrap  me  here — 

Pelee  the  Mountain  makes  her  tomb! 


[  52] 


SEVEN  CHILD  SONGS 

I.    DO    YOU    KNOW? 

JjEHiND  the  currant  bushes,  when  the  night  was  com 
ing  on, 

There  was  such  a  funny  whisper — do  you  know? 
It  made  us  shiver-shiver,  and  it  made  our  hearts  beat 

quick, 

And  we  knew  it  was  n't  any  good  to  carry  out  a  stick, 
But  we  did  it  just  the  same,  or  else  you  never  would 
have  gone — 

Do  you  know  ? 

Beyond  the  old  syringa,  when  the  stars  were  peeping 

out, 

There  was  such  a  funny  shadow — do  you  know? 
And  over  in  the  flower-bed  you  had  left  your  father's 

spade, 
And  you  had  to  go  and  get  it,  and  you  said  you 

were  n't  afraid, 
But  you  told  me  afterward  about  the  creeping  Indian 

scout — 

Do  you  know  ? 

Beneath  the  kitchen  window,  when  the  moon  was 

climbing  high, 

There  was  such  a  funny  coldness — do  you  know? 
No  matter  if 't  was  summer,  it  was  cool  just  like  a  well, 

[  53  ] 


DO     YOU     KNOW  ? 

And  the  reason  was  because  a  ghost — but  when  you 

tried  to  tell, 

I  put  my  fingers  in  my  ears,  and  how  I  used  to  cry! 
Do  you  know? 


[  54] 


II.    THE    SECRET    PLAYMATE 

W  HEN  I  am  playing  underneath  the  tree, 
I  look  around — and  there  he  is  with  me! 

Among  the  shadows  of  the  boughs  he  stands, 
And  shakes  the  leaves  at  me  with  both  his  hands. 

And  then  upon  the  mossy  roots  we  lie, 

And  watch  the  leaves  make  pictures  on  the  sky. 

And  then  we  swing  and  float  from  bough  to  bough - 
And  never  fall  ?  I  can't  remember  now. 

The  games  I  play  with  him  are  always  best, 
And  yet  we  cannot  teach  them  to  the  rest. 

For  when  the  others  come  to  join  our  play, 
I  look  around — and  he  has  slipped  away! 

They  ask  me  if  he  speaks — I  cannot  tell; 
But  no  one  else  can  play  with  me  so  well. 


[56  ] 


III.    LONELINESS 

Alow  can  I  play  any  longer  with  my  doll? 

You  know  she  has  lost  her  head. 
And  Mary 's  the  one  that  used  to  mend  her  for  me  — 

And  Mary,  you  say,  is  dead. 

Why  do  I  leave  the  sand-heap  all  alone? 

Because  it  has  dried  and  spread. 
And  Mary 's  the  one  that  always  brought  the  water — 

And  Mary,  you  say,  is  dead. 

More  on  the  beach?  Well,  I  think  I  know  that,  too! 

And  you  are  the  one  that  said 
That  Mary  and  I  should  sleep  in  a  room  together — 

And  now  you  say  Mary 's  dead. 

No,  I  don't  like  the  hotel — I  'd  be  alone; 

I  'd  cry  in  that  great  big  bed : 
And  Mary  and  I  played  tent  in  the  morning  early  — 

And  now  Mary  can't — she 's  dead. 

Happier?  no,  not  a  bit!  not  a  single  bit! 

Then  why  are  your  eyes  so  red? 
And  Mary  's  the  one  that  never  liked  angel-stories  — 

And  Mary  's  the  one  that 's  dead. 


IV.    DREAMS 

ONE  night  I  climbed  a  mountain  all  of  snow, 
A  great  black  creature  showed  me  where  to  go: 
We  went  into  a  church  with  no  one  there, 
And  cried  because  the  wind  began  to  blow. 

And  then  a  King  that  wore  a  golden  crown 
Climbed  up  the  spire  and  tried  to  help  me  down, 
But  I  spread  out  my  arms,  and  flew  and  flew, 
And  all  the  people  watched  us  from  the  town. 

They  chased  me  through  the  streets,  but  I  ran  fast, 
And  got  into  a  secret  place  at  last. 
I  'd  float  down  stairways,  touching  just  my  toes, 
And  laugh  and  mock  at  them  as  I  went  past- 

And  then  we  went  to  Cinderella's  ball, 
I  had  no  shoes  nor  stockings  on  at  all: 
They  smiled  and  pointed  at  me  till  I  cried, 
And  woke  up  just  as  when  you  slip  and  fall. 


V.    THE    SHADOW 

IF  you  and  I  should  join  our  hands 
And  go  at  night  soft  through  the  hall, 

I  wonder  could  we  hope  to  catch 
That  shadow  sliding  from  the  wall? 

He  slips  and  slips  and  slips  away, 

I  touched  his  arm — and  he  was  gone! 

I  cannot  see  his  face,  can  you? 

What  wall  can  that  be  painted  on? 

Because  they  say  he  is  n't  real, 

They  say  he  's  just  a  flattened  form ; 

But  me,  I  don't  believe  it 's  true, 
/  touched  his  arm,  and  it  was  warm! 

Right  through  the  wall  he  slips  and  sinks: 
The  room  behind,  you  know,  is  mine. 

What  can  he  want  there  in  the  dark? 
He  never  makes  a  sound  nor  sign. 

He  never  goes  there  in  the  day, 
Only  at  night,  right  after  tea, 

And  then  I  go  to  bed,  you  know, 
And  then  he  runs  ahead  of  me. 


[58] 


THE     SHADOW 

If  you  will  hold  my  hand  quite  close, 
And  creep  along  with  me  quite  still,' 

We  '11  make  a  sudden  jump — but  no! 
We  '11  touch  him  then — I  know  we  will! 


VI.    HEAVEN 

J^HE  says  that  when  we  all  have  died 
We  '11  walk  in  white  there  (then  she  cried) 
All  free  from  sorrow,  sin,  and  care  — 
But  I  'ra  not  sure  I  'd  like  it  there. 

She  cannot  tell  me  what  we  '11  do, 
I  couldn't  sing  the  whole  day  through: 
The  angels  might  not  care  to  play, 
Or  else  I  might  n't  like  their  way. 

I  never  loved  my  Uncle  Ned, 
So  I  can't  love  him  now  he 's  dead. 
He  'd  be  the  only  one  I  know — 
She  says  it 's  wicked  to  talk  so. 

I  'd  like  to  see  how  God  would  look, 
I  'd  like  to  see  that  Judgment  Book : 
But  pretty  soon  I  'd  want  to  be 
Where  the  real  people  were,  you  see. 

When  people  turn  dead  in  a  dream, 
I  wake  up,  and  I  scream  and  scream: 
And  since  they  're  all  dead  there,  you  know, 
I  'm  sure  that  I  should  feel  just  so! 


[  60] 


VII.    THE    PEAR   TREE 

W  E  lived  out  under  the  pear  tree, 
We  dined  upon  tarts  and  cream, 

I  married  you  there  for  ever, 
But,  dear,  'twas  only  a  dream! 

We  sailed  away  in  the  branches 
To  countries  strange  and  new, 

For  we  owned  estates  in  Dreamland, 
But,  sweetheart,  it  isn't  true! 

We  made  a  church  in  the  pear  tree, 
WThere  the  angels  came  to  sing, 

We  stroked  their  wings — but,  dearest, 
You  mustn't  believe  a  thing! 

We  cut  our  names  in  the  tree  trunk, 
So  the  bark  could  never  grow, 

And  the  Dryad  cried!  But,  my  darling, 
'T  was  none  of  it  really  so! 


INSCRIPTIONS 
FOR  A  CHILD'S  PLATE 

jyi.Y  Child,  when  from  this  Plate  you  Eat, 
Give  Thanks  to  God,  who  Sends  your  Meat. 
Beware  you  Show  no  Haste  nor  Greed, 
To  those  who  Serve  pay  Gentle  Heed, 
Spare  out  some  Bread  to  Feed  the  Poor, 
And  you  shall  Never  Want,  be  Sure. 


FOR  HIS  CUP 

WHEN  drinking,  Child,  from  out  this  Cup 
To  Ease  your  thirsty  Pain, 
Think  how  the  Earth  to  God  looks  up 
And  Thanks  Him  for  the  Rain. 


FOR    HIS    CHAIR 

W  HEN  in  this  Chair  you  Rest,  my  Child, 
Let  all  your  Thoughts  be  Kind  and  Mild, 
Your  Face  and  Hands  quite  Neat: 
Rise  up  until  your  Elders  sit, 
Seek  not  to  Show  a  Saucy  Wit, 
Nor  all  you  Hear  Repeat. 


FOR    HIS    BED 

(JTO  not  to  Sleep  in  this  White  Bed, 
My  Child,  before  your  Prayers  are  Said. 
Give  Thanks  to  God  for  all  your  Joys, 
For  Mother,  Home,  and  Friends  and  Toys. 
Ask  Pardon  for  the  Sins  you  've  Done, 
Then  Shut  your  Eyes  until  the  Sun: 
Your  Dream  shall  be  a  happy  one. 


[63] 


THE  WANDERERS 

THE  PRINCE         A  MAN-AT-ARMS         A  GYPSY 
Scene:  The  Edge  of  the  Forest 

THE    PRINCE 

J^o  then,  I  am  crowned  to-morrow? 

MAN-AT-ARMS 

Yes,  my  lord. 

PRINCE 

How  fleet  the  time  runs  by!  But  yesterday 

I  played  in  the  fountain  with  the  great  white  hound. 

My  old,  old  nurse  that  died  .  .  . 

But  all  is  changed. 
I  am  a  man  now? 

MAN-AT-ARMS 

So  it  seems,  my  lord. 

PRINCE 
And  I  am  king  to-morrow. 

Ah,  dear  saints! 

This  is  the  saddest  day  of  all  my  life. 
Farewell,  farewell,  sweet  Yesterday!  Farewell, 
Thou  once  so  sweet  To-morrow!  Thou  for  me 
Shalt  no  more  beckon  down  the  widening  road 
That  flows  through  all  the  forests  and  the  fields, 

[  G4  ] 


THE     WANDERERS 

That  flowers  into  the  sunset  and  the  sea! 
Henceforth  companioned  by  the  same  To-day, 
The  dull,  cramped  state,  the  tired  formality, 
False  thoughtfulness  and  feigned  remembrances, 
I  yoke  my  life  to  one  recurring  task, 
No  sooner  done  than  all 's  to  do  again! 
I  would  I  were  a  child  with  one  white  hound 
That  lapped  the  fountain.  .  .  . 

Wherefore  do  you  sigh? 
Why  are  you  sad?  You  need  not  be  a  king. 

MAN-AT-ARMS 

My  lord,  I  love  you. 

PRINCE 

I  know  it.  Oh,  my  friend, 
Listen,  and  I  will  tell  you.  Only  you 
Are  friendly-soul ed  in  all  this  cruel  court; 
And  that  is  strange,  for  you  must  ever  dog  me, 
That  I  go  not  afield  nor  roam  the  woods. 
Why  may  I  not? 

MAN-AT-ARMS 

My  lord,  it  is  forbidden. 

PRINCE 

But  why? 

MAN-AT-ARMS 

I  know  not.  What  would  you  tell  me,  sir? 
[  65  ] 


THE     WANDERERS 

PRINCE 
Why,  this. 

Last  night  J  leaned  far  out  the  tower 
To  catch  the  smell  o'  the  woods  and  hear  the  birds 
Quiet  their  young  to  sleep,  and  watch  the  stars 
Slip  one  by  one  to  sight,  and  feel  the  wind, 
That  blows  so  soft  at  night,  come  floating  by. 
And  on  my  ear  there  fell  a  sudden  song: 
So  throstle-sweet  it  was,  so  faery-gay, 
My  heart  stood  still  to  hear  it.  It  rose  high, 
And  all  my  soul  rose  with  it;  it  sank  low — 
My  cheeks  were  wet  with  tears. 

I  tell  you,  friend, 

My  years  slipped  from  me  like  a  mantle  dropped. 
I  felt  the  wonderful,  the  wild,  sweet  dreams 
That  blessed  those  nights  when  I,  a  little  boy, 
Trembled  a  moment  on  the  forest  brink, 
Then  flung  myself  into  its  dusky  arms, 
Swung  in  the  billowy  boughs  and  pressed  the  moss, 
Drank  from  the  pool  beside  the  spotted  deer, 
And  at  the  murmurous  swaying  of  the  pines 
Wept  in  my  childish  sleep  for  joy  too  great. 

(The  Gypsy  song  is  heard?) 

Oh,  the  goodwife  turns  the  wheel  at  home, 

And  the  bird  will  keep  her  nest, 
But  it 's  ah  me!  for  the  world  's  to  see 

Or  ever  my  heart  have  rest! 

C  66  ] 


THE      WANDEREBS 
PRINCE 

There,  there!  You  heard  it?  Ah,  unhappy  prince! 
For  me  the  green  earth  spreads  her  fields  in  vain, 
The  forest  pleads  in  vain  with  dusky  arms: 
I  shall  die  caged. 

Ah,  do  you  see  him  there? 

MAN-AT-ARMS 

See  whom,  my  lord? 

PRINCE 

The  stranger  in  the  wood. 

How  brown,  how  bright!  How  gallantly  it  swings, 
That  tattered  robe!  And  see  his  gleaming  chain, 
His  scarlet  berries! 

Nay,  I  will  not  go! 

Nay,  if  you  touch  me  I  shall  kill  you !  Nay, 
I  will  speak  with  him  if  I  die  for  it! 
He  turns  his  eye  upon  me  — 

Ah,  dear  saints! 

I  mind  me  of  my  mother  suddenly, 
That  died  for  sorrow  when  she  brought  me  forth 
To  chain  me  to  a  throne.  Ah  me,  ah  me! 
When  did  my  mother  die? 

MAN-AT-ARMS 

The  queen,  my  lord, 
Left  life  behind  her  at  the  early  dawn, 
Just  as  the  spring  was  coming  on. 

[  67  ] 


THE     WANDERERS 

PRINCE 

And  where? 

MAN-AT-ARMS 

How  can  I  tell? 

PRINCE 
I  know  you  will  tell  true. 

MAN-AT-ARMS 

My  lord,  the  queen,  your  mother,  grew  distraught, 
And  ere  her  time  was  come  she  crept  at  night 
Between  her  watchers  while  they  drowsed,  and  found 
A  glade  among  the  hills  that  spring  had  kissed, 
And  underneath  green  boughs  she  laid  her  down. 

PRINCE 

And  I  was  born  there? 

MAN-AT-ARMS 

Aye,  my  lord.  Below 
The  first  faint  budding  bough  we  found  you  there. 

PRINCE 

You  should  have  told  me  this. 

See,  he  comes  near! 
(To  the  Gypsy.}  God  save  you,  sir! 

GYPSY 

I  lie  within  his  hand. 

PRINCE 

Where  go  you  ? 

[  68  ] 


THE     WANDERERS 
GYPSY 

Where  the  cool  brown  river  runs, 
Over  the  shining  pebbles,  through  deep  pools 
The  setting  sun  turns  first  to  molten  gold, 
Then  hues  with  pigeons'  breasts,  purple  and  pink, 
Then  fills  with  inky  shadows  where  the  moon 
Plunges  at  midnight. 

'Neath  the  glimmering  stacks 
Below  the  waiting  stars  I  dream  good  dreams, 
And  catch  the  sky's  faint  blush,  and  bathe  in  the  brook, 
And  tread  the  firm  green  grass  and  follow  the  clouds, 
Till  drowsy  noon. 

I  sing  before  her  door, 

And  the  farmer's  wife  brings  honey  to  me,  and  bread 
And  milk  beneath  the  pink,  sweet  apple-boughs. 

PRINCE 
Will  you  not  sing  to  me? 

(Gypsy  sings.) 

The  king  he  wooed  the  Gypsy  maid 

And  kissed  her  to  the  throne; 
She  fell  asleep,  but  blood  runs  deep, 

And  the  forest  claims  its  own! 

MAN-AT-ARMS 

Leave  us,  I  say! 

PRINCE 

You  shall  not  threaten  him! 
[  69  ] 


THE     WANDERERS 
MAN-AT-ARMS 

Go,  or  I  strike! 

PRINCE 

Where  is  your  love  for  me  ? 

MAN-AT-ARMS 

Sir,  if  my  care  for  you  had  matched  my  love 
We  two  had  long  ago  been  far  from  here. 
With  every  moment's  lingering,  my  lord, 
I  move  one  step  the  nearer  to  my  death: 
Will  you  not  come? 

PRINCE 

I  cannot. 

MAN-AT-ARMS 

Then  for  me 

Life  is  not  long,  it  seems.  I  pray  you,  sir, 
Remember  always  that  I  loved  you  well! 

(Gypsy  sings.) 
Ah,  vain  for  him  the  diadem, 

Heavy  the  scepter's  load, 
For  he  was  lord  o  the  windy  wood, 
And  prince  o'  the  winding  road! 

PRINCE 

I  come,  I  come! 

Nay,  weep  not  so,  good  friend! 

[  70  ] 


THE     WANDERERS 

This  is  no  fault  of  thine ;  for  you  and  me 

God's  plan  is  kindly.  Never  did  I  loose 

The  hare  entrapped  or  set  the  song-bird  free 

But  I  had  faith  that  He  would  serve  me  so! 

Come  with  me :  little  love  have  they  for  us 

In  that  hot,  weary  glitter  of  the  court. 

Hast  thou  not  seen  the  new  queen  grudge  at  me 

And  nurse  her  son  to  scorn  me? 

Let  them  reign! 
We  '11  make  a  dearer  court. 

The  trees  shall  bend 
And  bow  to  us,  but  not  with  flattery; 
The  little  leaves  shall  whisper,  but  their  lisp 
Is  clean  of  lies  and  slander;  the  sleek  deer 
Shall  lead  their  tender  fawns  to  kiss  our  hand, 
Nor  plot  us  evil  with  the  soft  caress; 
The  wind  and  rain  shall  be  our  councilors, 
Nor  urge  us  to  do  war,  nor  press  the  poor, 
Nor  waste  our  souls  in  bitter  rivalries, 
Nor  match  a  petty  kingdom  with  great  powers 
That  smile  at  us  for  folly. 

Let  them  reign! 

(Gypsy  sings.} 

And  it 's  we  mil  fling  the  world  away, 
And  reap  where  God  has  sowed, 

And  we  'II  roam  for  ay  the  windy  wood, 
And  wander  the  winding  road! 

[  71  ] 


THE     WANDERERS 
PRINCE 

Friend,  must  I  go  alone? 

MAN-AT-ARMS 

My  lord,  these  hands 

Lifted  you  first  from  where  you  lay  and  smiled 
Beside  the  dead  queen  'neath  the  hawthorn-tree. 
I  walked  beside  the  horse  when  first  you  rode, 
I  set  the  hawk  upon  your  little  arm, 
I  have  lain  years  before  your  door  at  night. 
The  death  I  stay  to  meet  were  not  so  hard 
As  life  without  you. 

PRINCE 

Will  you  follow  me? 

MAN-AT-ARMS 

To  the  death,  my  lord! 

PRINCE 

Why,  then,  good  friends,  your  hands ! 
We  three  are  bound  for  the  woods :  God  needs  some 

souls 

To  love  the  world  as  he  made  it- 
Come  with  me! 
(They  enter  the  forest;  the  Gypsy  song  is  heard.} 


[  72] 


THE      WANDERERS 

Oh,  the  goodwife  turns  the  wheel  at  home, 
And  the  bird  will  keep  her  nest, 

But  it 's  ah  me!  for  the  world  's  to  see 
Or  ever  my  heart  have  rest! 


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